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I raise a brow.
"You don't look up the percentiles you fall into?"
No. Who does? "I always forget you're a nerd."
"I'm smart, not a nerd."
"Aren't you studying chemistry?"
"With a minor is statistics," she says. "You really need data fluency these days. Everyone does."
Okay…
"I'm in the ninety-fifth percentile," she says. "Women's height."
"Congratulations," I say.
"Are you going to look?" She motions to my cell.
"In front of you?"
"Yeah, why not?" she says.
"Maybe I want some privacy."
"You really shouldn't work at Inked Love."
"Isn't this sexual harassment?" I ask.
"Probably. Do you want to report it to HR?"
"Who's HR?"
"Chase?"
"Chase is scary calm now that he's a dad."
"Yeah, he has a real daddy vibe, for sure," she says. "Kidding."
"Are you?"
She motionssorta. "Okay, I can go back to work, but you have to go back with me."
That's fair. I am late, and she is the assistant manager for the moment. "It might be SPAM."
"Just look."
I do.
And it's not SPAM or a new entry fromHearts and Thorns.
It's Imogen.
Imogen: This might be a little forward, but I would like a round two. Actually, I'd like to try to make this a regular thing. I had fun last night. I'd like to have fun all summer.
Luna squeals. "Good news?"
"Yeah," I say.
